


I'm Sorry

by BrownEyedGirl42



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:38:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrownEyedGirl42/pseuds/BrownEyedGirl42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time. It’s sort of a funny thing, isn’t it? It’s not something you feel, but it’s always there, passing you by, as slow and as fast as the steady rate of sixty seconds per minute.</p>
<p>Frank didn’t thought too much of time. He thought a lot about music, the band, Gerard.</p>
<p>Frank thought a lot about Gerard. He tasted like smoke and beer and sweat, like all the things a good gig should be, and they would fall into each other like the end of the world was coming, like time was running out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfic of this pairing and fandom so let me know what you think! Comments and reviews, good and bad, are appreciated.

Time. It’s sort of a funny thing, isn’t it? It’s not something you feel, but it’s always there, passing you by, as slow and as fast as the steady rate of sixty seconds per minute.

Frank didn’t thought too much of time. He thought a lot about music, the band, Gerard.

Frank thought a lot about Gerard. He tasted like smoke and beer and sweat, like all the things a good gig should be, and they would fall into each other like the end of the world was coming, like time was running out.

________________________________

Frank moaned as Gerard slammed him into the wall of the trailer, feeling his tongue slide up the side of his neck. Gerard’s knee pressed between his legs, pushing against the growing bulge. “Fuck, Gee! Fucking…nng!” he groaned, before fisting his hands in the other’s hair and dragging him back up to his mouth. He could feel Gerard smirking against his lips, and he was lost to his feel, his taste. It was exactly as it should be, hot and frantic and and rushed.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Gerard mumbled against his lips, and they stumbled into the trailer. They tore off clothes in a frenzy, leaving a trail from the door to Frank’s bed of shirts and belts and shoes. Gerard’s fingers felt like they were burning where they pressed into Frank’s skin, but his tongue left behind a moist trail that felt cold where it touched the air. Frank attacked Gerard’s neck just where it met his shoulder, determined to leave a mark, but Gerard had never been known to be the patient type and shoved Frank back down onto the bed to bite and lick at his own neck instead.

Fingers and lips and teeth left bruises and the room echoed with their mingled cries and moans.

It was always like this post-gig; just fucking for the sake of fucking. Sometimes they would stay up to celebrate with the rest of the band, so they were a little, or, sometimes, a lot drunk. Other times they wouldn’t, saying they were too tired to party. Either way, they always ended up in each other’s arms before the sun came up the next day.

________________________________

 

Frank breathes the smoke in deeply, contemplating the smoldering end of his cigarette when he hears a banging on his door. He turns to it, only a few feet across his small compartment in the trailer.

“Yeah?” he calls.

“Frank…”he hears someone mumble on the other side.

He frowns. “Gee, is that you?”

“’M comin’ in…” the voice slurs, before a decidedly wasted Gerard stumbles in, slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck, man, what’s wrong with you?” Frank says, taking in his disheveled appearance, even though he absolutely knows what’s wrong. Gerard’s lips smash to his as he falls into Frank’s lap, knocking him flat on the bed. Frank shoves him with his hand not currently holding a cigarette and he rolls off to Frank’s side.

“Nothin’” Gerard mumbles before latching onto Frank’s neck, licking and sucking and nipping in that ungodly way that made Frank’s breath hitch and his toes curl.

“Hnng, Gee, ah, just, just, ah, I’ve still got my fucking smoke, would you, nh, back off for one damn second?” Frank says with exasperation, pushing Gerard away and sitting up against the bed frame. To make his point, he brings the smoke to his lips and breathes it in deep, hoping to at least delay Gerard until he could finish the damn thing. It was only half gone and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to waste it.

Gerard, however, is undeterred, and slithers into Frank’s lap, plucking the smoke out of his hands and bringing it to his own lips, taking a decidedly exaggerated drag, locking his eyes with Frank as he did so. Frank thought there was something decidedly distracting about Gerard’s mouth and his eyes and the way he was holding the cigarette, but then Gerard was snuffing it out in the tray beside Frank’s bed.

“Oh c’mon man, what the fuck?” Frank moans, staring at the dying cigarette longingly before Gerard starts sucking on his collar bone, seemingly intent on marking Frank as his own.

“Whoops,” Gerard murmurs unconvincingly against Frank’s neck. Frank looks into his glassy, flat eyes, and heaves a sigh of resigned disappointment and responsibility. Fuck, since when does he have to play mature?

Frank grabs Gerard firmly by the shoulders, pulling him back so he can look at him. He looks totally trashed, body limp, clothes hanging, and hair sticking to his face. “Gee, you know I can’t do this,” Frank says, trying to make his face as stoic and resolute as he could manage.

Gee lets out a whine that makes him sound like a dying puppy and looks at him with pleading, animal eyes. “Frank…” he whines, trying to grasp for him, “Why not?”

Frank shuts his eyes. “You know why,” he says quietly, trying to keep Gerard at arm’s length, even though Gerard was still relentlessly pawing for him.

“Frank…” Gerard whines again, “C’mon, I’m fine, I’m-“

“No, Gerard, you’re not!” Frank bursts, eyes flying open. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing? That we all don’t see it?” he fixes Gerard with his burning gaze, anger seething at him for hurting what he loves so much. “You’ve gotta stop this, Gee, fuck, you can’t keep doing this!”

Gerard’s face is down, dark hair hiding his face. He’s hunched over, and suddenly, Frank feels like an asshole for having yelled at him.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispers.

“Gee, I-“ Frank starts, unable to watch him like this, cowering like a fucking scared animal. He’s reaching for his face, running his fingers along his cheek, and he swears he feels something wet running down his cheek when Gerard’s mouth is suddenly on his own once more.

Gerard’s kissing him desperately, and Frank has to push him away, gasping for breath.

“Frank, please, I just, I just…I can’t do it. I can’t deal, and I don’t know what to do, and, and…” Gerard says, and something in Frank just breaks, as he runs his hand across Gerard’s cheek, catching his tears before they can fall into his lap.

“Shh, shh, Gee it’s okay, it’s alright…” Frank says. He brings Gerard’s face to his own and pressestheir lips together, tasting the smoke and the beer and the salt from his tears. Gerard clings to him and presses harder against Frank, slipping his knees on either side of his hips. Frank kisses across his jaw and down his neck.

“God, Frank, yes, just need you, need this…” he rasps quietly.

No matter how much Gerard moans, or how many times he tells Frank how good it is, or that he wants more, Frank always wakes up with the bitter taste of guilt in his mouth. Gerard would sleep in his arms, before stumbling away at some time in the afternoon the next day, only to return with coffee and smokes, and Frank would sit there, just staring out of his dusty, dirty window.

“Hey, you okay Frank?” Gerard asks, handing him a steaming cup of caffeine.

“Yeah…” Frank would say quietly, but Gerard sees the sadness, the guilt in his eyes. He says nothing though, because he knows, and just presses a kiss to the top of Frank’s head.

“Okay,” he says, picking up his mug and silently exiting the room like a dead memory.

Frank just stares out the window, feeling as empty as the air between them, coffee going cold in his hands.

________________________________ 

 

Frank knew Gerard did more shit than he probably should. He spent more time puking his guts up in the bathroom than any of the rest of them, and days could go by that he wouldn’t be sober. But, that was just Gerard. No one worried themselves overly much about it.

Except Frank.

The others figured that as long as he performed at shows and kept the destruction to where they didn’t have to deal with it, they wouldn’t. Frank though…Frank couldn’t ignore it. Maybe the others didn’t see it. Gerard would come to his room at all hours of the day and night, with the horrible hacking sobs and just melt into an incoherent puddle on Frank’s floor, leaving him to pick up all of his pieces. Sometimes Frank would be walking outside the trailer, and find Gerard passed out on the ground, bottle in hand, and drag him back to his room. One time, he had just pulled the blanket over him when something fell out of the bed, rolling under a table. Curious, he picked it up, but only stared at it blankly before being filled with rage towards Gerard and hatred towards the empty bottle of pills in his hand.

“Fuck!” he yelled, hurling the bottle across the room, where it bounced off a wall and disappeared into a heap of dirty clothes.

“Frank?” came Gerard’s sluggish reply.

Frank turned his firey eyes to Gerard. “Why? Why are you doing this?” he demanded, grabbing Gerard by the front of his shirt, shaking him just inches from his face. Gerard looked shocked, but still with a slowness that betrayed his state of mind.

“Frank?” he says quietly.

“Why, Gee? I wanna know why?” Frank growled, the intensity of his eyes causing Gerard to try and hide his head.

“I don’t know what you’re-“ Gerard started.

“Don’t even start with that shit!” Frank yelled, letting go of Gerard, causing him to fall back onto his bed. “You’re killing yourself, so don’t even act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” He looks to Gerard, but his face is hidden behind his hair, and he looks beaten. Frank covers his face with his hands, before sliding up and pulling at the roots of his hair in frustration.

“Just talk to me, Gee,” he says quietly, but only silence hangs in the air.

Finally, when it becomes obvious there’s nothing either of them are going to say, Frank leaves, slamming the door behind him.

________________________________

Frank’s watching Gerard, but he doesn’t know if Gerard knows that. He’s painting, and although Frank can’t see his face, he knows that his eyes are intense, glowing with a far off light, eyes seeing things that have yet to be made real. He’s biting his bottom lip in concentration, brow scrunched together in contemplation.

Finally, Frank can’t stand it anymore, and closes the space between them, wrapping his arms around Gerard and resting his chin on his shoulder. Gerard reaches up a hand, stroking Frank’s hair, and turns around in his arms to kiss him. It’s a slow, sweet kiss, and when he pulls away, Frank can’t help but brush a thumb over what he thinks must be the most beautiful cheekbone in the world. He stares into Gerard’s eyes as a feeling of euphoria washes over him. Gerard is here, in his arms, safe and healthy and together with him. He smiles.

“I love you,” he says against Gerard’s ear, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah?” Gerard replies.

“Mhm. Even if you are an annoying fucker,” Frank replies, grinning, and Gerard snorts.

“You’re one to talk,” Gerard replies before silencing them both with another kiss.

“Dinner?” Frank asks.

“I’ll love you forever if you make it,” Gerard replies, trying his best to sound convincing.

“Pft, you know you already do,” Frank replies.

“Well I don’t know, dinner could really help your chances…” Gerard reasons.

“I’ll order a pizza. But that’s as much as I’m doing dinner-wise,” Frank says.

“How very lazy of you,” Gerard replies, rolling his eyes.

“Not lazy…” Frank mumbled against Gerard’s neck, kissing his way down, “Just have better things to do…”

Gerard grins. “Like?”

Frank stops a moment to look at Gerard seriously. “Well, mainly, you.”

________________________________

There’s something about being young and in love that makes you feel like you’ll live forever, like nothing will ever go wrong, and life will always be exactly the way it is. You feel as if you have all the time in the world, and that you’re untouchable.

Frank felt the glow, but deep down, he knew that the way Gerard was going, the clock was ticking. 

Humans are the only creatures who kept time, and thus, are the only creatures to fear it running out. However, the young are usually free of this, shielded in a bubble of seemingly endless time and endless life.

Frank feared Gerard’s time running out.

________________________________

Frank sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, just breathing. He heard his door open and quietly click shut, and footsteps coming to stand next to him. He heard the bed creak as the person satdown, and for a while, nothing was said.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said quietly.

Frank squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. He lifted his head slightly, and studied Gerard. He was sitting, hunched over, looking beaten, like he always did at times like this. He looked pale, lifeless, making the dark rings around his eyes stand out even more. His eyes were tired and blood shot, and he stared with an empty gaze at a spot on the floor. His dark stringy hair fell in his face, and his faded, crumpled t shirt made him look even more empty and washed out. Frank sighed, and lifted his head to stare at the ceiling. “We can’t keep doing this,” he said in a strained voice.

They remained still a minute, before Gerard responded. “I know.”

Frank looked to Gerard pleadingly. “I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself. You keep getting fucked up, and I keep fucking you, and it has to stop because dammit, Gee, I fucking love you, and it’s not, I can’t…” he fades off, and Gerard looks at him with sorrowful eyes.

“I’m sorry Frank,” he said softly.

“But why? Stop being sorry, just stop doing it, and then you won’t have to be sorry anymore,” Frank says, looking at him desperately.

Gerard brings a hand up to the side of Frank’s face and gives him a sad smile. “I would for you, Frank. I would for you.”

“Then do,” Frank pleads.

Gerard shakes his head and laughs in a hollow, broken way. “I wish I didn’t have to keep telling you I was sorry,” he says, and his voice cracks. He looks up into Frank’s eyes before leaning forward to press their lips together. It’s a soft, chaste kiss, but as one becomes more and their breath mingles together, they can each feel the other’s tears on their face. Frank hears Gerard sigh and he breaths in the scent of him, the smoke and coffee and just Gerard, and he smells like everything he’d ever hoped for in a home, and he knows that Gerard is the closest thing to home he’ll ever know.

Later, he holds Gerard close, his head resting against Frank’s shoulder. “I love you,” Frank whispers against the top of Gerard’s head, not even sure if he was awake.

“I know,” comes the reply so soft he’ s not sure if he’s heard it at all, “and I love you too.”

The soft words fade in the silence of the room, and Frank’s eyes start to close.

“…and I’m sorry,” he hears Gerard whisper just before he fades into unconsciousness.

________________________________

“Gee? You in here?” Frank calls into Gerard’s room, pushing open the door before walking inside. A quick scan reveals no Gerard, and Frank starts to leave. However, there’s something about the sheets, the way they’re all bunched up and sliding off the far side that makes Frank frown and walk around to the far side of the bed. “Gee?”

Gerard’s wrapped up in the sheets, arms and legs tangled hopelessly into the fabric. “You’re such a violent sleeper…” Frank mumbles, attempting to heave Gerard and the offending sheets up onto the bed when a bottle topples to the floor. Frank stops, staring stoically at the bottle, not moving. He lowers Gerard to the floor and slowly picks up the small plastic container. He stares with no expression into the bottom of the empty bottle, and can see Gerard hazily through the orange plastic.

“Gerard,” he says flatly, but he doesn’t move even a bit. The bottle falls from his hands and he drops to his knees, hiding his face in his hands. If Gerard has done it again, he doesn’t know what…

“Gerard,” he says again hoarsely, and looks up into his eyes.

Gerard’s eyes are closed, his mouth hung open. He looks dangerously pale, and Frank raises a hand to his face.

All of the blood drains from him and his stomach drops through the floor. He brings his other hand to Gerard’s face, but he’s still just as cold.

“Gerard?” he rasps desperately. “Gerard, no, no…” he says, running his fingers through his hair desperately before bringing Gerard’s head to his chest and stoking his hair soothingly.

“It’s okay, just wake up, come on Gee, come on…” he mumbled into the top of his head, rocking back and forth. “Just wake up, just wake up Gee, wake up…”

He looks at Gerard’s face and suddenly all of his rage wells up inside him. “Why?! Why did you do this? You could’ve stopped! I told you this would happen and it’s all your fault! You can’t do this to me Gee! It’s not okay, it’s not fair!” Frank screamed at him, “I fucking love you and you can’t do this!” He clutched Gerard’s head to his chest as the tears flowed uncontrollably. He still smelled like coffee and smoke and home, and Frank grasped his lifeless body tighter, as if he could bring him back with willpower alone.

He spotted the edge of a notebook peeking out from under Gerard’s bed, and brought it into his lap. It was open to a page with writing, it looked like a letter. A letter addressed to him.

Frank,

I know how much this hurts you. I wish I could quit. If I could quit for anyone, it would be you.

I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to keep saying it. One day, I won’t. One day, I won’t have to say I’m sorry any more.

I love you.

-Gerard

Frank stared over the note numbly, before seeing a bag barely hidden under the edge of the bed, next to where the notebook had been. He pulled it out and found dozens of little orange bottles, some filled, some empty. He picked up one in his hand and eyed it warily. He took the cap off, stared at the little pills inside.

They were so small. How could something so small have done all this? Taken his love, his home, his life? What had Gerard been thinking when he swallowed his last pill?

Frank brings one to his mouth. Tasteless. He wonders at how something so insignificant could have done so much, controlled Gerard so much.

Frank forces the rest of the pills down his throat. He picks up the pencil off of Gerard’s bedside table and picks up the notebook.

Frank heaves Gerard’s body up onto his lap, clutching at his shoulders and resting his head on Gerard’s hair. It’s getting hard to breathe, and he feels a little dizzy, but he’s not afraid.

“Shh Gee, it’s okay, gonna be alright…” he whispers into his hair, “I love ya, you hear me Gee? You don’t have to say you’re sorry anymore…” he says, voice fading. “Never again, okay? Cuz I love you…”

When they find them, Gerard is still halfway in Frank’s lap, notebook lying open on the floor next to them, and Frank’s head is resting in Gerard’s hair, a contented smile on his face. 

Gerard,

Don’t feel sad, it’s okay. I was never mad at you. I love you. I always have, and I always will.

You don’t ever have to say you’re sorry again. I forgive you.

-Frank


End file.
